The Story
by AlphaWolf45
Summary: Remember that woman at the end of the movie fixing to jump? This is her story.


Pay it Forward

He was an odd man. She had realized that the second she laid eyes on him.

Face covered in an unkept beard, the smell of filth and other unsanitary substances any decent human being would immediately wash away. Hair, a short brown, matted at the sides and uncontrollable. The teeth blackened and yellowed only possible through years of no hygienic care combined with the swing of a bottle and illegal substances. Clothes no logical person would come near, much less a dog. Ripped at the seams, the color faded into an unsavory and putrid array of browns.

She was vastly different. Dressed respectively for a woman of her class. A nice dress underneath an expensive tan overcoat made of the finest hide. A thin gold necklace coupled with a pair of earrings made with rubies, a small sample of her entire collection. With that to consider, the lackluster of a car she drove was stark in comparison.

In actually the car was not hers but of one of her many servants' car. That day was different than all the others. It was the day to change all her days, the horror of that day, a day she will never forget for many different reasons.

It started out like any other day. The sun barely scraping the horizon with its blinding rays. The birds chirping and utter tranquility in the manor. The gardeners snipping away at the green vegetation, a vibrant green so rare close to the desert.

She awoke in a state of utter bliss, any worry banished from her mind as she stretched herself awake in her king-sized bed. She took a short shower and walked down three flights of ebony-wood stairs.

Walking through the granite counters and glass cabinets of the kitchen, she strolled into the grand stupor of the dining hall. Portraits of the people of old in golden frames intricately designed each with a silver plaque etched with a name and a compressed history. On to one side, stood a chestnut table in which atop sat many expensive trinkets of a varying size and design. In the middle ran a large maplewood table with and insurmountable amount of chairs running parallel to either wall stopping only yards from the adjacent wall.

In the farthest chair from the kitchen entryway, sat a young boy, no more than ten years old and had curry brown short hair paired with a chocolate honey eyes, enjoying scrambled eggs with toast. He looked up from his breakfast and he gave her a blinding smile as he raced toward her. She'd then proceeded to spin the young boy in the air, who eagerly released high pitched giggles of pure joy and contentment. He asked her if she could be the one to drive him to school - like old times.

She gently declined, not wanting to experience the hassle called traffic. Instead she sent the boy off with a smile and watched as he and the driver drove off in the sleek black car into the long driveway and onto the street.

Only an hour later, she received the call informing her that her son was in the hospital with life threatening injuries.

Quickly, she walked down the smooth steps and asked one of the shellshocked workers for their keys. They hastily obliged and, by barely driving under the legal limit, she arrived in less than thirty minutes.

She mind then whirled with the information the doctors pummeled into brain. All that nonsense blew out of her mind as she gazed horrified and her son's broken and battered body. She covered her mouth with her hands and let out an anguished sob. She sat by her son until the doctors forced her out.

All this, the pain her only son had suffered, was because of her own selfish desire to avoid the hassle of traffic.

She drove the battered yellow car out to a bridge with great sense of self-hatred. The unworthiness of her existence was tangible to her. It breathed cruel breath, laughed a cruel laugh and mocked her, using her broken son as its ammunition.

She cried as she made her way toward one of the pillars and crossed the guardrail, eliminating any safety it had provided. She stared at the inviting waters below. The waves and ripple reached out, whispering false promises and hopes.

Then the man walked up, speaking words she didn't understand; all gibberish in her disturbed mental state. After exchanging words, trying to get him to understand, he asked to get coffee with her.

What an odd man.

She relented, intent in rectifying his viewpoint. That was the plan at least.

The coffee, weak, stale and flavorless, did nothing but help the man. With every argument came a rebuttal, every measure brought on a countermeasure and after hours of disagreement , she was the one to relent.

The man, after confirming his victory, began speaking of something called 'Pay it Forward' started by a boy named Trevor, a slip of a boy from Nevada. Since he had paid his dues, it was her turn to pay.

Her mind cleared, she set forth once again toward the hospital, mind erased of her self-destructive tenacity and fill with a void of endless worry for her son.

She returned in record time, not a soul noticing her absence. The doctor attending her son spotted her and informed her most of the damage sustained to his poor, fragile body had been repaired, now only requiring rest and plenty of love to heal.

Overjoyed, she walked into the room. In the sterile white room laid the product of her and her late husband's marriage. His eyes opened as she came into ther room. The joy she saw in his chocolate eyes brought great fear of the possible outcomes had her earlier intentions been fulfilled. She was greatful toward the man on the bridge.

He had saved both her and her son.

For weeks, the boy with curry brown hair with chocolate brown eyes was forced on bedrest. His mother ever present at his side.

The driver, always making a point to visit, guilt of the accident crushing his very being. That was, until she and her son told him straight out that it was simply a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. They continued to tell him this until his eyes, beautiful hazel eyes, began showing acceptance at their words. Even then they both made a point of inviting the man over, telling him silently that things were alright.

After two months of recovery, the boy renewed his schooling. It was there he noticed the odd yet intellegent girl always sitting in corner of the classroom, alone. He walked up to her, inviting her to his house, and after pestering, begging and pleading for months, she agreed.

The girl stared wide-eyed at her home, the extravagance unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Her beautiful son gently worked his left hand into hers and led her inside. There, the tiny slip of a girl with the eyes of a saint became acquainted with everyone, worming her way into even the hardest of hearts.

Soon, the girl became a regular fixture. A year passed and when the girl came to school limping and covered in bruises, the boy pried into the causes of her hurts a had gotten her to reveal the monsters who called themselves her caregivers were the source. Immediately, he dragged the girl to her for he knew his mother knew what to do.

The second she laid eyes on her, she knew she had to do. The servants of the home constantly fretting over the girl as she began the procedures of removing her of the house of despair the girl had to reluctantly call home.

As another year progressed, she successfully had her removed from the home and into her care. The girl, although brimming with joy, recalled some of the horrors she had experienced during the few stints in which she had been estranged from her and her son.

She recalled children much younger then her with hard and cold eyes, no longer caring of the happenings around them. Belonging stuffed an trash bags and the rough manhandling of the often frustrated social workers. The torment most of the children suffered at the hands of other children at one time or another.

With recount of such tales, the boy's mother felt compelled to do something. Weeks of mulling over her course of action, she had found the perfect thing.

Over several years onward, she expanded her hand to several of those broken and battered children, saving them from themselves and the beasts with human faces. Although it was only a few children she could do this for, it was still one child more who received a new chance to re-experience their stolen years.

The mansion, once quiet and peaceful, had become loud and chaotic. The house positively brimmed with uncontainable emotions, the air clearer and livelier. The sounds of laughter and cries of child-like joy echoed throughout the property.

Not everyone was happy with such a change.

The others of her class aimed their cruel sharp tongues and mock pitying looks toward her and her 'Orphan children'. Casual talk littered with hidden sneers and fake smiles, all sipping tea while waiting for a moment of weakness to stab a dagger in her back.

Only the rare few believed her actions were meaningful, showing their support in monetary manners never dipping under ten thousand.

She gave them grateful smiles secretly when those few crossed paths with her, both knowing the actions had been unnecessary and dangerous to their standing. They had not meant any ill-will; they only wanted to do something to help.

It was not like she needed their help after all. She had all her lovely children after all.

Over the years, her beautiful children grew up, leaving for the world beyond the safe clutches of the manor.

Doctors, Lawyers, police officers and soldiers they became. Gratitude in her actions in their earlier life ever present in their hearts.

They made it their goal to help another like she had helped them. As they travel throughout the world, they completed their goals and some even going beyond helping a measly ten people and impacted hundreds on lives.

Those lives then went back and helped another handful and so on. The legacy of Pay it Forward started by a young boy named Trevor lived on, even in her biological son, who instead of following his siblings into the outside world, decided to open the manor to those who had no place to go to.

She smiled, old age etched hard long lines into her face. She can leave this world knowing she had made a difference and kept her word to the man who stopped her on that bridge so long ago.

The day after her 85th birthday, she was able to leave the world in peace as she closed her eyes for one last time.


End file.
